When we’re back at his house, he escorts me to my bedroom door, kisses me, and heads down the hallway disappearing around the corner. I go inside, change my clothes, brush my teeth, and crawl under the covers. Falling asleep is easy, but I can’t stay asleep. Perhaps it’s because I’m in a strange place. My mind is working on overdrive trying to figure out the reason for my mutilation and what would happen to me if the Keepers found out. That last thought is what drives my eyes open. Or is it the murmuring of voices in the hallway just outside my door?
“I’m telling you the truth, Nan,” Avery says, my door slowly opening and letting in a little light from the hallway.
I quickly close my eyes and pretend I’m sleeping, but I strain my hearing to make sure I don’t miss anything.
“Leader Fallon would never have allowed her to return to Tarsus,” a light, wispy female voice says.
“Well, she did.”
“Can you find out why?”
“Doubtful. She’s been pretty tight-lipped lately. Hardly comes out of her compound now, which is odd.”
I can tell they step deeper into the room, almost so close to me that I can feel their breath on my face.
“Max does look a lot like her mother,” Nan says. “Do you think she’s just as dangerous?”
“I don’t know, but that’s what I’m planning on finding out during their stay here.”
The door closes and I’m alone. I automatically try to think back to my early childhood, but all I can remember is being at the orphanage.
Am I really from Tarsus? How did I wind up in the Outer Limits? And where are my parents? Are they still alive? What else don’t I know?
I begin to realize that my whole life seems to have been nothing but a lie. Everything that I am is not real. I start panicking. Anxiety expands to all areas of my body and I begin to shake. I’m about to get out of bed and splash some water on my face, but my body won’t move. I’m cemented to the mattress, but how? A green light catches my eye and I’m only able to move my head. A beam is emerging from the dragon statue on the nightstand, heading right towards me. I change directions and see the same light coming out of the other statue.
The beams penetrate my temples and my mind is no longer under my control. I close my eyes, but all I see is destruction and bloodshed. Groups of Aedox are attacking the workers in the Outer Limits, gunning them down as they try to flee. Explosions level several units of the second-level housing. People run from the rubble. Some survivors are on fire. Screams fill my ears and it’s almost like they’re right next to me. I feel myself suffocating as I breathe in the polluted air. I’m seeing all this as if I’m participating in it, but I can’t control any of my actions. I know it’s not real. It just doesn’t feel real. A bright flash blinds me and when it dissipates I’m in Tarsus standing amongst the shoppers that line the roads.
The ground shakes, knocking us all off our feet. Drones fly over our heads, dropping small devices to the ground that explode when they make contact with the stone pavement. Moans of the injured fill my head, but I still can’t move to help. The displays that dangle from every building change from their dazzling lights to a lone face. One I’ve seen recently.
“You all brought this upon yourselves,” the woman says, her long red hair piled high atop her head. “There will be no peace until our society can be reformed, built up from the ashes of your lives.”
More bombs drop, killing everyone around me, but I remain uninjured.
“Give in to us, and you shall be spared.”
The woman vanishes and is replaced by a bright green laurel, a wreath made of small branches, with a silver infinity sign in the center. I continue to stare at the symbol while the world around me burns. A unit of Aedox marches up the road shooting anyone still alive. They get close to me and I hold my breath, hoping I’m invisible. Instead of being shot, I’m hit in the side of the head with the butt from one of their guns and everything goes black.
My eyes flash open and I have to blink a couple of times to bring them into focus. Sunlight floats into my room, telling me it’s morning. I try to move my arms, but I can’t. My body feels like dead weight. I can move my head noticing that the green beams are gone, but I’m panicking from not being able to move.
Frey enters my room a few moments later. When he sees the look on my face, he’s next to me in less than a second.
“I can’t move,” I whisper since my breathing is out of control.
“Did you have any nightmares?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Then you more than likely have sleep paralysis. It happens to me all the time. I’ll go get you some tea. It should help.” He leaves before I can tell him what happened.
I’ve had plenty of nightmares before and have never woken up like this. I try to focus on getting my breathing under control, and it’s taking a lot of effort. Frey returns with a hot cup, he places his hand behind my head, and pushes me up slightly so he can bring the cup to my lips. I take small sips. The cinnamon tastes particularly strong this morning, but I do begin to feel better. The heat travels the length of my body and limbs, waking them up. After several minutes, I’m able to move. Frey sets the cup on the nightstand and sits next to me on the bed.
“What did you see?” he asks, voice calm.
I’m about to blurt out the details
